


Domestic Brothers

by coplins



Series: Packrunners [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Omega Dynamics, Brothers, Gen, Omega Dean, Omega Sam, Scenting, Scents & Smells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 07:48:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13336671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins
Summary: Sam and Dean update each other on what's happened while they were separated.





	Domestic Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! Not an eventful installment but it opens the door to many future possibilities. :) Next part will be up later tonight. I just gotta answer your comments. ;)

* * *

Sam slams Dean up against the homemade bookcase so hard books fall from the shelves, he flares and sniffs Dean’s neck, face, and hair with dogged single-mindedness. Dean laughs because it fucking well tickles. “Damn it, Sammy! I’ve got food cooking on the stove.” He wriggles free and turns to go back to the kitchen but Sam follows with a crazed look in his eyes, still sniffing away relentlessly. “You like him, huh?” Dean remarks with a big grin on his face and stirs the vegetables he’s frying.

“Yes. At first I thought it was _him_. The guy who turned me down. But.” He sniffs even more intensely, if possible. “This is someone else. A brother?”

“ _Daaamn_. You can tell them apart? That’s fucking wicked, Sammy.”

“So who is it?” Sam asks, slicking himself to Dean’s back and burying his nose on a point on Dean’s neck that seems particularly well-smelling to him.

Dean sniggers. “Sam. Meet Michael Williams. One of my bosses I’m crushing on. And if one Williams turned you down? Don’t worry. At least two of them are crazy about me and we smell about the same so they’ll be crazy about you too.”

Sam has closed his eyes and replies with a drifting ‘Mmhm’ between deep breaths.

Dean sniggers. “Oh, and I’ve got other news. I met this guy at the DMV. He belongs to a pack of bachelor Alphas and he asked us out to meet the rest of the pack next month. I don’t know what he smells like because the DMV sprays some kind of chemicals in the air that renders you temporarily noseblind. But he was prime mate-material. And as much as I’m falling for Michael, I ain’t shutting any doors right away. Gotta think about what’s best for both of us.”

“If there are two that smell this good we can mate one each if they insist on monogamy,” Sam answers driftingly and shuffles along with Dean not to remove his nose from his chosen spot as Dean goes to take two plates out of the cupboard then takes the pan off the stove to divide the food he made for himself into two portions.

“Yeah, no. That might work for you but not for me. It's gotta be packlife or not at all. But I do know Michael's not averse to a little Alpha on Alpha action, so that bodes well. Hey, speaking of… you ever heard of Siberians?” Dean shoves Sam off to take the pigeon out of the oven. He chops it in half on the cutting board and puts one half on each plate. Then he takes fresh fruit and vegetables from the counter to make a full meal of the divided ration.

Sam sits down at the kitchen table with some reluctance. “Yeah, sure. It's one of the primitive species of our kind.”

“Of course, you’d know,” Dean mutters, then louder he says, “What else can you tell me about them?”

“Um. Very little is certain. They were a violent species that wouldn't sit down to be interviewed. So most of what is known come from either mummified bodies found frozen in ice, or from hunting them down and dissecting them.”

“ _Dissec―_! Holy fucking shit, Sam! If I was given the choice of either tell a bunch of strangers everything about my life or be _dissected_ , I'd turn into a violent species real fucking fast too. Fucking hell.”

Sam's lips tug into a bemused smile in a corner. “I guess… anyway, what's known for sure is that their general shifting abilities way outdoes our own. All of them would grow thick pelts of soft fur if it got too cold or they were surprised by a snowstorm or something. All texts I’ve read mention that about them. They will do half shifts and completely change their head and hands and part of their bodies. It’s widely debated, but some believe they could do full shifts, based on some skeletons they’ve found.”

“Yeah, no. I don’t believe that. If anyone regardless of species managed to ever do a full shift, the pain of it would have killed them and that’s why we’re finding skeletons. What else?” Dean serves the plates of food, grabs two bottles of soda from the fridge and sits down to eat.

“Okay. They’re thought to have lived alone and they roamed over vast areas to hunt. They are also thought to have used mating bites.”

“What's that?”

“Um. I don't know how it works exactly but they, along with the Northern Scand, another primitive species that lives in Scandinavia and stem from the Direwolf, use a bite to create a permanent mating bond. But the Siberian has two small chambers in their skull bone tissue that’s believed to be for producing and storing some form of chemicals, like venom maybe or something that creates an instant, permanent scent bond. They don’t know exactly because they didn’t have the technology to discern that when Siberians still existed. They’re described to look demonic and be extremely dangerous. But, Dean, nothing is actually really known. The last Siberian was killed 200 years ago.”

Dean’s been listening while shovelling food into his mouth. Dean’s read a lot. But his favourite type of reading are fictional books that’d take him on adventures in places his legs can’t carry him to. Sam, on the other hand, loves to read about facts and science. His knowledge is blotchy, just like Dean’s, dependant on what books and magazines they are able to get their hands on. But with the way Sam devours science books, it's always worth asking him. “They're not extinct. In fact, I've given a Siberian a BJ. Correction. _Michael_ and I, have given one a BJ.”

Sam stops with his fork halfway to his mouth to stare.

“It was awesome! You shoulda seen this guy’s flare! His scleras turned completely black. And he had three set of fangs. Upper and lower like you, and a third weird pair right here,” Dean says and points onto his teeth where the odd fangs had been. “They were flat and curved, like on a snake, could bend backwards and forwards, and produced nice smelling liquid. And his dick looked different than ours. You shoulda seen the fucking girth on that thing!”

Sam’s brain kicks back into gear. He scowls upsettedly. “Oh my Gods, Dean! What were you thinking?! You see a man-shaped animal and your instant reaction is to have sex with it? You could have been killed!”

“ _Enough!_ ” Dean’s anger flashes in his eyes and permeate his scent, making Sam cower back with a sullen, defiant expression while licking his lips. “He was not an ‘it’, Sam. He was a nice, intelligent, polite and respectful man who happened to look a bit different than us. Calling him an animal is fucking speciest. Hell, I’d call him another race, not species, if anything. Not that it matters. Is it cold in Siberia? You mentioned fur?”

“Yeah… Siberia is a huge region in Soviet and it’s cold as hell for the greatest part of the year. Lots of snow and open terrain that goes on for miles and miles,” Sam answers with narrowed eyes, like he senses that Dean’s about to trample his ‘knowledge’.

“In that case, Sammy, your _science_ isn’t science at all. It’s propaganda, and I’ll tell you why.”

Gotta give it to Sam, his curiosity trumps his need to hold onto his beliefs. He relaxes slightly, reminding Dean of a suspicious turtle poking out if its shell. “Okay…?”

“You mentioned the soft fur thing as if this was important, right? So the way I see it, this is what happened. A bunch of explorers come to this cold-ass land looking for resources, freezing their butts off. They run into locals who have adapted to this shitty climate, right? But they look kinda scary when they flare. So the explorer runs home and talks about demons. They spot a local in really bad weather and the fucker has puffed up a nice, warm fur coating.” Dean demonstrates by shifting into his own fur, the least used shift. Dean doesn’t know if it’s common or not. Sam, dad, mom, Bobby - they all could do it. Dean doesn’t know if Cas could, or if it’s a Midwest thing. It’s never used for anything and the only times Dean’s felt the warm pressure in his skin to do it, it’s been when he’s been scared shitless or enraged. Only once in his life had there been a practical use for it, which is a crying shame because aside from a warm, sun-burnt sensation, it’s painless. A white and a black line appear under his eyes. His cheeks, forehead, and neck take on a golden hue with spotted tabby markings in copper and black. The fur is so soft, dense, and short it looks like his skin changed colour. Both he and Sam had been born this way, peach fuzzy with clear markings. Nose, mouth, belly and sex areas bare. Dean goes on. “The explorer gets an idea. ‘Hey! They’re walking around in ready-made coats! All we have to do is kill them and butcher them correctly and we’ll barely have to do any sewing!’ And when they try to do that, the Siberian fights like the fiend they named him. They realise they can make money selling the fur coats so they kill every local they come across, but only when they’re furred up. Then they bring the skinned corpses back home to actual scientists and say they can only get them like this. Captured Siberians ain’t talking even if they’re promised freedom. I wouldn’t either, so that’s no mystery. Think about it, Sammy. I mean, they say we Packrunners are more animal than men too. And we _know_ that’s bullshit.”

Sam’s looking slightly green. “That’s horrible.”

“That’s human nature for ya. Don’t tell me it isn’t plausible.”

“It’s plausible. When they were half shifted, I don’t think you could have told a coat made from their skin apart from one made from a Snowtiger or Snow leopard,” Sam admits reluctantly, poking in his food with the fork. “Gods. What twisted mind could even think of doing such a thing?” he asks, realises the answer and fixates Dean with a stern look.

Dean laughs and lets his short fur disappear into his skin again. “Hey, you said so yourself. I see someone awesomely different I want to fuck them, not kill them,” he defends with a wink, making Sam snort in amusement. “Besides, I’m just making this up. Good ol’ territorial war could have been the base for all this. All I’m saying that Sasha was very much a man, not an _it_. And maybe he wasn’t a purebred Siberian? Who knows? But I’m still calling bull on the so-called science around Siberians. So. Enough about my sexual adventures. Let’s talk about yours? Like, what are you doing home so early? You’re still in Heat. I wasn’t expecting you home for days. Did he treat you badly?”

“What? No. No, not at all. He was. He was good. Alright.”

“So why can’t I smell him on you?”

“I took several showers to scrub his scent off so he’d know he has no claim on me. He wants to mate me.” Dean’s instantly on guard. Sam sees it and chuckles, waving it away with a gesture of his hand. “I’m not interested in mating with him, Dean. Technically he’s good mate material. He’s got his own business, lives in a nice apartment, is respectful. And while he claims to be a Conservative I think he mostly says it because it’s convenient. He’s more like, unaffiliated. While we were knotted he painted this picture of us mated, running the business together, raising our kits to learn the trade, and I just… no.”

“So that’s it? You got a commitment scare and ran home? Cuz if that’s it, Sammy, I gotta tell ya that _a lot_ of Alphas will propose mating if you spend your Heat with them. It’s just how it is. You can still spend your Heat fucking their brains out. Most will be grateful for what they _can_ get from you even when you turn them down for more.”

Sam smirks and shakes his head. “That’s not it. He offered me a part-time job and I said I’d think about it. I just didn’t want to think about it while locked onto his knot, you know?”

“Huh. Did this job offer come with strings attached?”

“No. He said that getting to knot me would be a nice bonus for him if I let him, but it’s not something I need to do to keep the job. There was a brawl in the bar that I helped break up and that’s when he gave me the offer. It’d be three nights a week on a rolling schedule and I’d be working as a bartender. The pay is pretty decent. More than you make per hour.”

“Working nights, huh? The business district is pretty far off to have to travel home during nights. I know you can take care of yourself, but the city is still pretty dangerous at night.”

“I know. I pointed that out but he has guest rooms in his apartment and I’m welcome to stay overnight if I want to. And that’s an offer he extends to all his employees, no matter gender or sex.”

Dean runs a hand thoughtfully over his face. “Do you want to take the job? Cuz you don’t have to work. I’ve told you, the scavenging and foraging you do while I’m at work is plenty enough. I’m bringing in enough dough to sustain both of us.”

“Yeah, I do, I think. Aze is a nice guy and working like that would be a good way to get to know more people.”

“Alright. Do you want me to go down there and check up on him? To make sure he ain’t fishy somehow?”

Sam gives him a bitchface. “Dean. I’m an adult.”

“Alright. You’re right. I trust you to make smart decisions on your own. Just put your schedule on the fridge next to mine so I know which days I shouldn’t expect you to come home, so I don’t have to worry.”

“Yeah. I’ll do that,” Sam promises and relaxes.

* * *

Sam’s still snuffling him in his sleep. He _really_ likes Michael’s scent and it amuses Dean. But honestly, until further notice he’s more curious about the Packrunning brothers. He takes the phone from where it’s lying beside him on the bed, charging, (Gabe had provided him with a charger before they split up.) and bites his lip in thought. Then he chooses ‘Always Does The Right Thing’ and sends a text. “Can you pick up cat food on your way home? The cat needs it and I forgot before I left.” He has no idea if they’ve got a cat or not. If they do, no fun will come out of this, but it’s worth a chance. He falls asleep shortly after that.

When he wakes up he has a string of message waiting for him.

**Does The Right Thing:** Where did you hide it? How are you hiding its scent?!

**Gets Away With It:** Care to explain why our esteemed brother runs around in the house with a bowl of cat food, cooing “Here, kitty, kitty”?

**Gets Away With It:** He’s getting pretty frantic now. Pestering me to help him search.

**Gets Away With It:** I hate you, twerp.

**Does Not Approve:** Are you planning to tell them there is no cat? Or should I?

**Does The Right Thing:** Is this a joke? It’s not funny! Cats are living things. It’s not okay to hide one and forget about it. Bunny says it’s one of your jokes. But you usually don’t use animals for pranks since the llama incidents and I keep thinking that if I believe Bunny and I’m wrong, some poor little kitten will be starving to death. IT IS NOT FUNNY! I know you always wanted a cat. Fucking CALL ME!

**Gets Away With It:** This would have been hilarious if I hadn’t been roped into searching.

**Gets Away With It:** You’re lucky you’re not at home or I would have punished you by stuffing your *pussy* with this. [Dick pic included]

Dean makes a delighted noise and covers his mouth not to wake Sam up by laughing. The phone he got is a goldmine, and he wonders for how long he can keep pretending to be Gabe before they figure him out. Gabe said they never call since he never picks up on this phone. Dean bites his lip and admires the dick pic. It’s a handsome looking dick and you can see the beginning of a swelling where the knot is located. He’d never anticipated _that_. It makes sense. A pack of Alphas would be getting each other off just like he and Sam do. But that they’re sending each other dick pics? Maybe even sexy texts? Dean can barely contain his excitement. Too bad the picture is taken from above and doesn’t include the owner’s face.

He gets up, takes a shower and gets dressed before he gets too horny. It’s a workday today and he doesn’t want to be late. He can have more fun with the pack-brothers later. Duty comes first.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Keep those comments coming! They're keeping me happy and making me feel better while I'm suffering from the flu. :*


End file.
